


i know we weren't perfect

by borrowedthemoonlite



Category: Victorious (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Hidden Moments, Post-Break Up, Song: drivers license (Olivia Rodrigo), yeah idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28680258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedthemoonlite/pseuds/borrowedthemoonlite
Summary: He’s starting to find that as of late, getting behind the wheel only really serves as a reminder of the empty passenger’s seat.
Relationships: Beck Oliver/Jade West
Comments: 1
Kudos: 41





	i know we weren't perfect

In his mind, getting his driver’s license was significantly more exciting. Sure, he’s got a newfound freedom, but it’s not worth much to him at the moment. Not when there’s nothing really for him to drive to. If he’s being honest, Jade’s probably one of the only reasons he even got the damn license in the first place. Otherwise he’d be fine with taking the bus everywhere for the rest of his life.

She’s had her license for a while. After all, she’s the older one. Only by 10 months, but it makes a difference when it comes to driving. And he always felt bad cause she was the one who had to drive them everywhere. She said it was fine, that she didn’t mind. But still. So he said he’d get his license.

But he’s starting to find that as of late, getting behind the wheel only really serves as a reminder of the empty passenger’s seat.

Though, he makes the most of it and drives around anyway. Doesn’t go anywhere in particular, just drives through the streets, alone with his thoughts.

And the streetlights rushing past seem to hauntingly call out to him, an indelible taunt that he doesn’t, has never, and will never know who he is. It was something he always liked in Jade, people could say what they wanted about her. That she was too harsh, too mean, too brash. But she knew who she was. Her presence, her sense of self, has always been strong. Jade’s a force to be reckoned with, a hurricane of all the best things. And she was always completely infectious. Her quick wit, her sharp retorts, her dry humor, they’re all her but they equally became a part of him. They were no longer a mark of _just her,_ but a mark of _them._

But that’s over now, isn’t it?

And what is he? Maybe the right words are _who_ is he, but that doesn’t quite seem to fit. Part of him was so long-entangled, so tightly intertwined with her, that it started to meld with her. And when they broke apart, it went with her.

_He takes a left turn._

He knows that he isn’t the best by far. The state is full of tens of millions of people. Tens of millions of people who know who they are. Tens of millions of people who are everything he wishes he could be but can’t.

And maybe the taunting streetlights are right, she can do better. After all, with someone as confident in themselves as her, shouldn’t she have someone as equally dynamic?

_He reminds himself to stop at the corner. There’s a sign._

He knows they weren’t perfect. He doesn’t need anyone to tell him that. They both knew, that was why it ended. But what can he do? His heart still races whenever he sees her, practically tearing itself out of his chest and running to her. So how does he stop himself from holding his breath every time she walks by? 

How does he convince himself that he doesn’t love her anymore?

Because it has to sink in eventually. It has to start clicking. That he has to move on. That he has to get over it. He can only tell Andre how much he misses her so many times before it gets old. It probably got old ages ago, actually. And even though he doesn’t think he’ll ever feel the same way about anyone, he has to face the facts. The world is moving on. He can either move along too or get hurled out of orbit.

_He remembers his turn signal at the corner._

And if he tries hard enough, it’s almost like nothing’s changed. He can still hear her in the wind, still sees her in the reflections of the moon. She’d like it that way, he thinks. She’d like knowing that he still thinks of her. But it’s not like he could ever fully erase her from his life.

A few months back, she’d pulled him into her car, popped a random, unlabeled CD into her car’s console, and held her breath in anticipation. The car sprang to life as opening chords started up.

“What is this?” He’d asked, “I like it.”

She waited for a few seconds, for the words to start. “It’s me. I wrote it,” she rushed out. Although by then he already knew that, he’d recognize her voice anywhere.

She watched him carefully, gauging his reaction the entire time. As if he could ever hate it if he tried. He loved it as much as he loved her. An amalgamation of all her highs and lows, the in and out. If there was ever proof that love once lived, it was right there. And she’d asked if he’d liked it, to which he could only sputter in awe.

And now he sits in his car in silence, heartbreak echoing and hitting him in the chest. He can still hear her song, the notes punctuating each fragment of his heart breaking off. It’s all thrown out the window now, isn’t it? Another casualty left in their wake.

_There’s traffic near La Brea, he better take a back road instead. But that’s fine, if he had gone down La Brea he would’ve passed one of Jade’s favorite bookstores and that’s not something he’s ready to face yet._

The thing about Jade is that she’s impossibly endless. In the best way. Every time he thinks he’s got her figured out, she comes back and hits him with something he’d never see coming. But it’s a good thing. Maybe one of the best things about her. Anyone can look into the eyes of Jade West, but it takes a lifetime to actually look behind them.

And he came close, but they swerved and crashed two meters from the finish line.

Now he’s left blinking in the wreckage.

_He doesn’t mean to drive through her neighborhood, but he ends up there anyway._

He tries not to think about her too much. That would be weird. All he’d wanted was to go for a drive to clear his mind and instead, he finds himself here. The last place he _should_ be. He’s been down this road a hundred times before but never alone. She’d always been with him. But there are some things that cannot be.

Maybe he needs to get off the road. He knows that his RV is equally filled with bitter reminders, but those are ones he can bear to sit with.

_The only route he can take home passes her house. So he turns onto her street._

There’s some jackass on the other street, Beck doesn’t know if they’re driving angry or if they’re just an irresponsible driver, but they come careening onto the road, despite the fact he has the right of way, and he has to swerve to keep them from crashing into each other. He slams on his brakes and the most piercing screech fills the car.

Fuck.

He’s definitely scratched up his bumper, he’d be lucky if it hasn’t been pulled off completely. _Shitshitshit._ He takes in three shallow breaths, a terrible attempt at bringing his heart rate back down.

Okay. Okay. It could be worse, at least he’s alive, at least he’s unharmed.

He should check on the car, see how bad the damage is. He opens the door and steps out onto the sidewalk. It’s dented, which obviously isn’t ideal, but it could be so much worse than it is. With the sound it made earlier, he could’ve sworn his car would be out of commission.

The door of the house behind him opens. He looks over his shoulder to see Jade stepping out onto her front step. It just got so much worse. He feels stupid for not realizing it was her house earlier, but in his defense he was distracted trying to stay alive.

“Beck?” Her brow furrows with concern as she registers the sight in front of her. Seeing the state of his bumper, she starts sprinting down the driveway, _“Shit,”_ she winces.

“Jade,” he barely manages to get his words out and it feels like his brain is short-circuiting.

They stand there in silence, neither of them sure what the next move is or if they should take it. How does he even explain what’s just happened, why he’s here in the first place? And even though it hadn’t even returned to normalcy, his heart picks up again. Just like it always does when he knows she’s there. He’s terrified for what she might say next. God she probably hates him.

But she doesn’t ask those questions, doesn’t ask him what he’s doing in her neighborhood. Instead, she says.

“You got your license.”

**Author's Note:**

> everybody say thank u olivia rodrigo for writing driver's license


End file.
